Snowballs
by KentuckyWallflower
Summary: A short story inspired by the prompt phrase "Don't you dare throw that snowba— goddammit!" This is basically just one giant Stydia fluff piece. I hope you like it. Please, R&R!


**A/N: This one was requested by TrueAlpha1124.**

 **...**

 **Prompt #11: "Don't you dare throw that snowba— goddammit!"**

 **Characters: Stiles Stilinski & Lydia Martin from **_**Teen Wolf.**_

 **...**

Lydia Martin loved winter and everything that came with it. She loved the cooler temperatures that brought her peacoats, fuzzy sweaters, and turtle necks out from the back of the closet. She loved the accessories she was able to where in the winter too, such as her knitted hats and scarfs, leather gloves, and boots. Winter also meant that the holidays were just around the bend, and she loved the holidays. The redhead loved being able to curl up under the covers by the fire with a good book. But above everything else, the thing that Lydia loved the most about winter was the snow. It looked like a soft powder when it fell from the sky, and when it reached the cold ground of the earth it formed a beautiful blanket of snow. When it was untouched the pureness and simplicity of it was so pristine that its presents brought a sense of calm and an excited joy all at once. Snow also meant snow angels, snowmen, and snowball fights.

Stiles, however, did not share his girlfriends love for winter. He hated everything about it, with the exception of the holidays. But he especially hated the brutal cold that chilled him to the bone, even through his heavy winter cloths. If he had his choice, it would be seventy degrees all year round. Regardless of his complete and utter distain for all things cold, Lydia loved this time of the year, and he loved Lydia. Which was how he found himself dressed in layers and taking a leisure stroll through the park, the redheads gloved hand in his. Her shoulder was pressed against his, and with her closeness to him he could smell her shampoo. She smelled of pistachios and hibiscus flowers and there was a pleasant warmth radiating off of her that warmed him to his core, even with the bitter chill in the air as the white powdery snow fell from the night sky above them.

"Its beautiful, don't you think?" She said. "The snow, and the stars. Its peaceful."

"I don't know about beautiful," he began, "But its definitely cold. Freezing, actually."

The girl to his right looked at him. "I think its beautiful."

"No, Lyds. You're beautiful. Snow is just pure evil. Very cold, and very evil."

She gave a soft laugh, rolling her green eyes as they continued walking. The snow had begun to come down harder, and Stiles was growing colder. But Lydia looked so incredibly beautiful in her navy blue peacoat which flared out at the waste, stone washed skin tight jeans, white knitted scarf, dark brown hiking boots, and navy blue hat that he didn't care. Her hair cascaded down her back and across her shoulders in loose curls, each ginger colored lock catching the tiny white flakes of snow as they fell. Several flakes found their way to land in her dark lashes and dust her shoulders, where they glittered under the light of the street lamp as the couple passed by. Her lips were stained with a deep rose red tone and her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold. She was stunning, and he would never cease to be amazed by her beauty. Stiles would gladly brave the cold and the snow a million times over just to see his girlfriend look like this again.

"Is the cold really that bad?" She was asking him, seemingly oblivious to the look of complete awe that he was giving her. "I mean, what's so horrible about winter? It's my absolute favorite season."

"I will never understand how you can love winter so much, Lydia." He laughed.

"And I will never understand how you can hate it so much."

"Two words." He said, ticking of the reasons on his fingers as he spoke them. "Cold. And Snow."

"But what about the holidays?" The redhead asked. "You know, Thanksgiving? Christmas?"

"Of course I love the holidays. I just wish they didn't happen in the middle of freaking winter."

"But winter means cold weather. And cold weather means layered clothing, cuddling under the blankets by a warm fire—" Lydia began before Stiles cut in.

"I could definitely get behind the cuddling part."

"I think we would be having some relationship problems if you couldn't." Lydia laughed before continuing. "And snow means snow angels, snowmen, and snowball fights—"

"Ha! Right?" He said sarcastically. "That's not going to happen."

"Which part?"

"Well, all of it really. It all involves touching snow, and I hate snow. But _especially_ the snowball fights. That is never going to happen. Like, _ever."_

"What?" She laughed in disbelief. Lydia let go of his hand and stopped walking, moving to stand in front of her boyfriend. "How can you hate Snowball fights? Snowball fights are the best. Haven't you ever been in one before?"

"Maybe once, when I was a kid."

"And you didn't find it fun?" She was asking him as more snow tangled itself in her hair.

"Maybe? I don't really remember, I was like five. And besides, it doesn't really matter anyway because I found it cold."

"You don't remember it you said?" Lydia asked bending down to scoop up a clump of snow into her black gloved hands.

"No, I don't remember it." Watching her, he seemed to notice her action. "Lydia, what are you doing?" Stiles asked her.

"What do you mean what am I doing, Stiles?" She asked as she casually worked on compacting the snow clump between her hands.

"You're not planning to do what I think you're planning to do, are you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about sweetheart." The redhead cooed softly, teasingly. She turned her back to him walking a few steps away from him, still working on her ball of snow.

"Lydia Leah Martin." He said seriously. "Don't you dare throw that snowba— goddammit!"

It was too late. His girlfriend had thrown the snowball, the white fluffy ball of cold making impact with his chest. He looked down at his chest where the snowball had made contact to see the white dust which now peppered his steel grey winter coat. Lydia was standing in front of him, smiling innocently at him.

"That was a dirty trick Lydia." Stiles said, his tone serious.

"Maybe." She said bursting into laughter, "But it sure as hell was fun!"

"That was not fun." He replied firmly, trying his hardest not to smile at the sound of her laugh. He really loved hearing her laugh. "That was cold—literally and figuratively—and cruel. Very, very cruel."

"Kind of makes you want to throw one back at me, right?" She said playfully.

"Nope. That would start a snowball fight and I _will not_ be involved in that."

Never taking her eyes off of her boyfriend she bent down to scoop up more snow. "You sure about that Stiles?"

"Yes, I am sure." He said eyeing her cautiously. "Don't do it. Don't you da—"

This time her snowball hit him square in the face, and she gave up trying to act innocent. Lydia was cracking up with laughter and already reaching to collect more snow.

"Okay, that's it!" He said making a snowball of his own before throwing it at his girlfriend.

Squealing in surprise she threw her own at him in retaliation. The young couple ran throughout the park, collecting snow and flinging their frozen weapons at each other when ever they got the chance. Before long Stiles was laughing right along side of her. He fired in her direction and narrowly missed her as she ducked behind a barren tree, his snowball bursting into a cloud of white dust as it hit the tree trunk. As he reached down to grab more snow he felt a sudden cold sensation on his back. She had fired at him while he was distracted and some of the snow had found its way down the collar of his coat. He shot straight up, dropping his half formed frozen weapon to the ground. Lydia started laughing harder.

"That's not funny." He laughed.

"If its not funny, then why are you laughing?"

"Because," he told her making a snowball and firing. It his the side of her head and he laughed harder, Lydia's curls catching the flakes as they burst. " _That_ is funny."

The redhead's lips parted as she let out a little gasp of surprise, her breath quickly turning into a laugh. She bent down to gather material for a retaliation and Stiles took the opportunity to close the distance between them. He ran towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist before pulling her down into the blanket of snow. She let out a joyous scream as they tumbled together into the snow, and for a while that was where they stayed—laying in the cold white powder and laughing side by side. The snow continued to fall around them, the tiny flakes sticking to the fabric of their coats, and Stiles moved so that he was hovering over Lydia, putting all of his body weight on his arm to hold himself up. He leaned down to kiss her, tenderly and filled with love. When he pulled back she was smiling up at him.

"Do you know what we're in the perfect position for right now Stiles?" She asked him playfully. He raised his brow in question and the girl leaned up to whisper her response into his ear. "Snow angels."

...

Several hours later found the couple in Lydia's house, her mom was out of town for the weekend so they were alone. Stiles reached over to pick up the book that Lydia had been reading—a well used and loved copy of _The Giver_ by Lois Lowry, which was one of her all time favorites—and set it on the coffee table. After their snowball fight they had made snow angels and built a snowman in the park before the temperature began to drop even farther and neither of them could bare the cold weather any longer. When they entered Lydia's lavish home they both had changed into dry cloths and made themselves large mugs of hot chocolate.

Stiles started the fire in her fire place while she grabbed the quilts from her hall closet, and together they curled up on the couch beneath the blankets watching the warm fire. Lydia had chosen to read for a bit, but between the warmth of the fire, her hot chocolate, and the exhaustion of the great Stilinski vs Martin Snowball fight, the ginger haired girl soon fell asleep in her boyfriends arms, her head resting against his knee. And as Stiles looked at his sleeping girlfriend in the firelight, he decided that maybe he didn't hate winter so much after all.

…...

 **A/N: For those wondering, this is the order I will write and post my pending prompt request in (Story Title—Requested by [show]):**

 _ **You Deserve The World—WestAllen14 [The Flash]**_

 _ **Lost—BlackFireWolf (Guest) [Teen Wolf]**_

 _ **What You Don't Think I Notice—TrueNorth (Guest) [The Flash]**_

 _ **Shut Up and Kiss Me—TrueNorth (Guest) [The Flash]**_

 _ **Have You Lost Your Damn Mind—**_ _ **datonechick13 [The Flash]**_


End file.
